I was alone like an umbrella on a
Sewing machine
From the slopes of the Iblei mountains
To the north
I walked the path, climbing
For universes and worlds
With acts of thought and cerebral moods
The abyss doesn't call me, I'm on the edge
Like a bush: quiet like an insect
Soaking up the sun
I went down the river shrugging his shoulders
What an infamous dinner tonight
What terrible wine, I chat with the neighbor
She has no refinement
She can't stand drunkenness
I pick up Western phrases
/>Thoughts splash from the brain
The socks are finished
The transcendental Consciousness
No the Idea is incarnated
He says that this summer
There will be the end of the world, the end of the world
Fur cap and teal petticoat
Have we cold feet about the cosmos?

INVIA LE CORREZIONI